Part 5 (2/2)
For terror wild, and end most tragical, Some hostile, angry, deity prepar'd, Instead of triumph, for the home-returning.
Do human voices never reach this sh.o.r.e?
Far as their sound extends, they bear the fame Of deeds unparallel'd. And is the woe Which fills Mycene's halls with ceaseless sighs To thee a secret still?--And know'st thou not That Clytemnestra, with aegisthus' aid, Her royal consort artfully ensnar'd, And murder'd on the day of his return?-- The monarch's house thou honourest! I perceive Thy heaving bosom vainly doth contend With tidings fraught with such unlook'd-for woe Art thou the daughter of a friend? or born Within the circuit of Mycene's walls?
Do not conceal it, nor avenge on me That here the horrid crime I first announc'd.
IPHIGENIA.
Proceed, and tell me how the deed was done.
PYLADES.
The day of his return, as from the bath Arose the monarch, tranquil and refresh'd.
His robe demanding from his consort's hand, A tangl'd garment, complicate with folds.
She o'er his shoulders flung and n.o.ble head; And when, as from a net, he vainly strove To extricate himself, the traitor, base aegisthus, smote him, and envelop'd thus Great Agamemnon sought the shades below.
IPHIGENIA.
And what reward receiv'd the base accomplice?
PYLADES.
A queen and kingdom he possess'd already.
IPHIGENIA.
Base pa.s.sion prompted, then, the deed of shame?
PYLADES.
And feelings, cherish'd long, of deep revenge.
IPHIGENIA.
How had the monarch injured Clytemnestra?
PYLADES.
By such a dreadful deed, that if on earth Aught could exculpate murder, it were this.
To Aulis he allur'd her, when the fleet With unpropitious winds the G.o.ddess stay'd; And there, a victim at Diana's shrine, The monarch, for the welfare of the Greeks, Her eldest daughter doom'd. And this, 'tis said, Planted such deep abhorrence in her heart, That to aegisthus she resign'd herself, And round her husband flung the web of death.
IPHIGENIA. (_veiling herself_).
It is enough! Thou wilt again behold me.
PYLADES, _alone_.
The fortune of this royal house, it seems, Doth move her deeply. Whosoe'er she be, She must herself have known the monarch well;-- For our good fortune, from a n.o.ble house, She hath been sold to bondage. Peace, my heart!
And let us steer our course with prudent zeal Toward the star of hope which gleams upon us.
ACT THE THIRD.
SCENE I.
IPHIGENIA. ORESTES.
IPHIGENIA.
Unhappy man, I only loose thy bonds In token of a still severer doom.
The freedom which the sanctuary imparts, Like the last life-gleam o'er the dying face, But heralds death. I cannot, dare not say Your doom is hopeless; for, with murd'rous hand, Could I inflict the fatal blow myself?
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